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January

  1. Cold days, but bright

Lemon yellow sun

Some years snow

Some none.

Branches bare, but

Holly and mistletoe green

Owls call in the daylight

Hawks careen.

Smoke of home fires

Woodpeckers thrum

[my swing rotted through,

a new one hung].

Daffodils inch through ice

Forsythia and pear bud

God’s promise of spring

Through January mud.

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